


Miracles

by BoStarsky



Series: Soft Bois [3]
Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Fluff, I’m here to provide it, Just all fluff, Kittens, M/M, the saga continues, these dudes deserve love and soft things after what they’ve been through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 17:30:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoStarsky/pseuds/BoStarsky
Summary: Sometimes Christmas miracles truly do happen.





	Miracles

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [These Are the Things (You Do for Me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16573514) by [ChangeWillSaveYou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeWillSaveYou/pseuds/ChangeWillSaveYou). 



> Like the tags say, these boys deserve soft things. 
> 
> Thank you ChangeWillSaveYou for inspiring me further. 
> 
> Now with amazing artwork from Elviscl
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @BoStarsky

Ron has always liked animals though he’s never had a pet due to moving around too much while growing up. He’s always wanted a dog and now that he could afford to he’s too busy to justify it, cops and pets don’t always mix. It’s a shame he’s not really a cat person. Even so it’s hard to ignore a cry for help when the snow is deep enough to drown in for something that small. 

Grey, loud, and partway to frozen is how he finds the kitten huddled up to the brick wall of the supermarket. At first glance it’s nothing special, runty little thing that it is, but upon closer inspection something looks odd. That something is it’s eyes he realises when he exchanges his groceries for the squirming cat, there are none just empty sockets drawn with skin. 

Despite its size the thing has impressive volume, screaming it’s little head off until it’s paws hit the solid surface of the passenger seat. Wrapping his scarf around it in an attempt to quell the shivers he mentally maps the way to the only vet he knows of, hoping that someone will still be there this late. 

Luck is on his side this time, the vet on her way out the door just as he pulls in. She’s nice enough to take on his little passenger, letting them into the empty clinic where he’s been hired as a temporary assistant. His job is mainly holding a squirming kitten as still as he can while she does all the important work. 

In the end sacrifices are made, broken tail eaten by frostbite, an ear clipped short by something with a mean bite. The vet affectionately dubs the little runt Cousin It on account of the missing parts and overgrown fur. Now it’s his job to figure out what to with him and the first person that comes to mind is Flip. 

Flip who stops to pet every cat he sees, who keeps framed pictures of Eve around his house, Flip, who cried the morning Eve slept on. It’s the one and only time he’s seen the man shed a tear for any reason. But knowing Flip he’ll fall right in love with Cousin It, Ron can’t think of anyone else who’d love a misshapen cat more. 

He realises that giving Flip a cat might be crossing a line in this relationship of theirs, things changed after Flip asked to be kissed. Ron likes to think it changed for the better. It’s the kind of change you’d hardly notice if you weren’t in the know, to anyone on the outside it all looks the same, but Ron notices things. He’s still the initiator most of the time only now Flip has developed his own little ways of asking for it without words. A brush of fingers on his arm would to anyone else be a request for attention, to Ron it’s an invitation ‘I’d like to be touched,’ is what it tells him. A brush against his thigh, ‘can I come closer?’. 

This nonverbal communication comes in handy when they’re not entirely alone, when conversation could rouse Jimmy from his beer induced nap, when stealing a kiss in the kitchen gives them a rush of excitement, when asking for comfort after losing a loved one. 

It screams in his arms, nosing into his chest in search of warmth and safety. He’s exactly what’s needed in Flip’s too quiet house, he can only hope Flip won’t get hurt from Ron’s good intentions. 

The fact that the lights are still on should probably worry him, but he knows Flip is a night owl if there ever was one, so used to working late there’s no point trying to sleep before 1am. Flip welcomes him wearing silver tinsel in his hair, stray glitter sparkling on his hands and rubbed off on his shirt. His house looks like Christmas took a shit on the living room floor, carols crooning from the radio in the kitchen, a menorah on the mantle is the only thing that gives away his heritage. 

“I brought you something,” Flip lights up brighter than his Christmas tree when Ron introduces him to the squirming Cousin It, his stoic shell melting away to coo at a damaged ball of fluff.

Something truly magical happens next, instead of asking Flip takes. Christmas truly is a time for miracles.

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